And the Cold Seeps in
by Blithe Novelties
Summary: Whatever warmth he once had had fled, only to be replaced by a dangerous numbness, leaving him without the knowledge of if any area of his body was lost to frostbite. The only problem was that he simply couldn't leave his friend alone, not on the first night... AU-human names used.


**AN: After a few months of having writer's block for this oneshot, I finally had a breakthrough, and hope that soon the same will happened for my multichaptered fanfictions. **

**This particular fic is based off of the story, "The Little Match Girl."**

**Possible SuFin, if you squint.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

APH: And the Cold Seeps in:

Berwald clutched his coat against tightly against him, to offer protection from the stinging wind; his head, ducked close to his chest. Snowflakes pelted at him like minature frozen daggers, twirling about in their dance of death; his glasses had long since fogged in the cold, leaving his vision obscured. Whatever warmth he once had had fled, only to be replaced by a dangerous numbness, leaving him without the knowledge of if any area of his body was lost to frostbite.

The only problem was that he simply couldn't leave his friend alone, not on the first night...

XxX

Icy blue eyes solemnly watched the coffin being lowered into the earthy pit that he, among with roughly fifteen others, were gathered around. A pale marble stone stood at the head of the rectangular hole, words carved onto its otherwise smooth surface:

_Tino Väinämöinen_

_Beloved friend and son_

_1995-2012_

_Forever in our hearts_

More people would have shown up, if the temperatures had not been nearly freezing, yet the family could not afford to put the burial off until warmer days arrived because the temperature would not steadily rise for a month or two.

Tonight was supposed to be even colder, if the weather forecasts could be trusted.

Soon, the funeral was over, and people became trudging back to their vehicles, rubbing their hands up and down their arms to generate warmth. Berwald hung back a moment or two, staring at the words, in the mindset that if he did, they would shift, forming a new name before his eyes, that of some different relative that he could scarcely remember.

"You comin', Berwald?" he glance up to see that Mathias-a mutual friend of his and Tino's-a few feet away, watching him curiously, a sympathetic look in his once mirthful eyes. "S'not the best idea to stay out here in this weather. Y'might catch a cold." The Dane offered a weak smile, but the corners of his lips immediately tugged downwards at the realization of his words, that what had been thought of as a mere cold had actually been pnemonia~, the cause of their friend's demise. He rubbed at the back of his neck, his gaze focused on his feet. "M'sorry. I didn't-"

"S'fine," Berwald answered. "You're right...wouldn't want to be the next..." the Swede nodded to the tombstone, as if he made made some tacit agreement with it. Clearing his throat, he returned his attention to Mathias, "C'mon. Let's go."

As the two left Tino's grave behind them, the taller of the two couldn't help but glance back. _ I'll be back tonight, I promise._

XxX

It was that promise that the Swede had kept in sneaking into the cemetery, risking a terrible fine for trespassing, just to keep his dear friend company on his first night being buried, and, what ultimately kept him warm throughout the first hour or so. However, now, it was merely a fuzzy memory the blonde was unable to grasp, as were all of his other thoughts; all that Berwald now knew was that he could not leave, if not for Tino's sake, than that fact that his legs were probably frozen, and that there was an increasing possiblity for him to freeze to death.

He dared a glance upwards and, discovered, to his surprise, that the snowfall was finally beginning to lighten up. The horizon showed the first grey lights of the dawn.

A warm, drowsy feeling encompassed Berwald, making him feel the urge to rest his eyes, if only for a little while; he did deserve the rest, what with sitting out all night in freezing conditions. When the sun came up and warmed his chilled bones enough so that he could move, he would leave. It would almost be as if he were never even there. Yes...a little nap...would do him good...

XxX

Barely a week after Tino Väinämöinen was laid to rest, a new grave was made...another young soul, taken from the world long before his time:

_Berwald Oxenstierna_

_He who held vigil during_

_the coldest hours _

_of the night_

_1993-2012_


End file.
